


Charts of Darkness

by Augustineblues



Category: Blur, Gorillaz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Angst, Eventual Smut, Love, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Not all sad I promise, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2018-12-30 10:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12107211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augustineblues/pseuds/Augustineblues
Summary: Graham Coxon has already decided that the world of the living isn't for him, but could a handsome stranger and a vicious game of cat and Mouse change all that? Or will he wind up simply being a demon's prey?





	1. 1. Coping

**Author's Note:**

> FINALLY! Y'all got no idea how long I've been wanting to get this finished for OH MY GOD! So... Welcome to the Gramon AU!!!! *Confetti, Confetti EVERYWHERE* I've been really wanting to do something with Blur twinks so here it is. A few notes before we get started. 
> 
> First of all, on a happy note, this story will include not only all of the blur boys but also all four members of Gorillaz as a part of the main cast!
> 
> Now on to more serious bits. This story will deal heavily with topics life, death, morality, and mental illness. Not to say that it will be all angst but there will be increasingly dark themes throughout. That being said I am by no means an expert when it comes to these things but will do my best as far the characters. There's only so much you can learn from internet research without firsthand knowledge so please forgive me for any inaccuracies. ( I will also be adding warnings as the story progresses I didn't want to start off with them cause that would mean spoilers)
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think I'm eager for any and all feedback! Love you all <333

_Attempt: The act of trying to achieve something, typically one that is unsuccessful or not certain to succeed._

_Attempt_

_Admit_

_Pacify_

_Release_

_Attempt_

_Re-admit_

_Pacify_

_Release_

Almost as simple and unending as a suggested cycle on the back of the shampoo bottle. _Lather, rinse, repeat_. So, he allowed the unending repetition to flow Ad nauseum like the water that rained down on him from the shower head as he sat on the chilled tiles floor, not heated a bit by the lukewarm drizzle. "Hurry it up we've not got all day," an abrasive male voice snaps. He'd once been sitting in a plastic chair across the bathroom, but now towers over the shaking mass of limbs slumped on the floor because it's lost the will to stand up any longer. The man reaches over, careful not to get his scrubs dampened by the steady dribbles coming from the leak in the faucet, as he turns the taps off. The man on the floor says nothing.

Breakfast is more of the same. To the surprise of most, it's usually the least atrocious meal of the day. Generally, this is because it comes in prepackaged form with either water or milk added in. He sits near the window stirring his soggy cornflakes back and forth in the plastic container without picking up any in the spoon for more than a moment while he stares aimlessly at the rain outside. There's a woman sitting next to him... she's really just a girl and not a woman at all. She's new today. Must have come in during the overnight hours. It's worse like that.That's always been his experience anyways. There's a lot more waiting around at night than there is during the daytime. Usually, you have to wait down in the basement until morning when they finally bring you upstairs because some other unfortunate soul's bed has been freed up. They don't release people in the middle of the night.

She sits in silence the same as he, aimlessly stirring cornflakes neither bowl touched. The difference is there's a woman in her fifties standing over the girl's shoulder trying to reason with her, while he is for the most part left to his own devices. He glaces at them briefly and then averts his eyes to avoid eye contact, again watching the way the water droplets slide down the glass, fogged by the cool morning air of such a gloomy day.

The rest of the morning follows its usual routine. After breakfast, it's time for group sessions. He doesn't speak much during group. Only on the first day as an introduction and occasionally if someone poses a question directly to him. He's always been uncomfortable speaking in front of other people, especially when the topic of conversation is himself. He's usually more forthcoming with his answers in one-on-one sessions even if his elaborations are simply lies. The nurses are aware of this by now and have stopped pestering him to participate along with the others although he is still obligated to attend.

The problem with group sessions is that he finds them horribly self-indulgent. It's not always the same people who take advantage of them. He hardly sees familiar faces since the revolving door keeps the actual bodies flowing in and out rather quickly. It's all the same types though. There are certain traits that signify those who will grouse over every detail of their bland day asking the others for help and support or recounting certain events from outside life. The whole thing seems foolish and disingenuous. Why would anyone want the support of a group that as a unit are there simply because they can't uphold the daily responsibilities of their own lives?

Currently, the woman who has the floor is named Jen. She's thin, tall, with dyed blond hair that blackened roots have started to peak through. Her face is drawn and beginning to crack in places as one would expect for a woman in her fifties. Still, her appearance reads as somewhat juvenile. Today her characteristically colorful outfit consists of a turquoise blue tee with a reddish skirt, plum leggings, and her ever-present tan cowboy boots which click clack day and night down the florescent lit halls punctuating each of her steps.

 

Today she's talking about her life at home and the quits that she likes to make. She's holding one of them around herself at the moment like some sort of badly crafted superhero cape. It's a mash-up of what looks like scrap fabrics which in no way have any sort of pattern or reasoning to them. She's trying to explain that she's made thousands of these quits and each square has a special meaning. They all tell stories about a land that she's created in her own mind which is inhabited by dolls whom she rules over as their queen. It's all simply an illusion but to her, it's as real as the men and women that sit in a circle of old plastic school chairs.

The stories aren't new. He's heard them at least a dozen times as he's crossed paths with this woman over the years. She's like him. They've both got something wrong that keeps them trapped in this buildings like ghost eternally haunting its halls against their will. Jen, however, seems happy about a willing set of ears to indulge her imagination whereas he feels best when staying quiet. Silence is a double-edged sword. By controlling the urge he might occasionally have to speak he keeps himself in a glass bubble of mystery. This seems to frighten other patients on the ward. "It's always the quiet ones that you have to look out for." When it is he who is quiet it can be used as a veil of protection. When it is the room around him that is silent, however, that's when the thoughts creep in.

These thoughts are to be discussed again today in his one-on-one with the doctor that, if he plays his cards right, should be releasing him either today or tomorrow. It's just passed eleven when he's called into the office. Usually, his sessions aren't until later in the afternoon. This could be a sign that perhaps he would be evaluated for release today! The thought alone makes his heart beat faster. Soon he would be out into the world again, a free man!

"You wanted to see me?" He asks, his voice scratchy from hours without use as he walks into the small office. The room is sparsely decorated. There's a bookshelf in the corner with a few small potted plants sitting atop it looking to soak in any light they could from the large paneled windows. In the center of the floor sits a small, round, wooden table with a chair on either side. On the far end sits the doctor who looks up from the notes in the cream-colored folder for a moment.

"Why don't you have a seat Graham," He gives him a sad smile that doesn't seem to bode well and instantly Graham is on edge.

" 's this about? Is there a reason you wanted me in so early?" He asks, crossing his arms as he remained standing a few feet away from the table.

"Graham, sit down. There is no need for you to be hostile." The doctor repeats.

"Not hostile, just suspicious," Graham replies truthfully. "This about my release?"

"In a way..." The doctor admits as Graham finally takes the chair across from him. He's leaned back as far away from the table as he can be, arms still crossed in a defensive manner. "C'mon there's no need for that, how long have we known each other now? You should know that you can trust me to make decisions with your best interests at heart." He tries to assure his patient. In truth, it has been a very long time since they had first met. Graham had been a teenager at the time fourteen or perhaps fifteen. Now at twenty, he'd spent a great deal of time roaming the halls of this particular ward.

"Knowing someone for any length of time doesn't necessarily indicate trust." He responds. The doctor sighs and looks back down at his notes once again.

"I do care about you. You understand that correct? And I want to give you the tools that you need to get better and cope with this-"

"I'm perfectly alright," Graham cuts him off with a shrug. The doctor sighed, rubbing his hand across his forehead.

"The fact that you can sit here and say to me that you are fine just make this choice that much easier Graham. I'm sorry to do this to you, but I think right now it might be best if we moved you to a long-term facility. You've been in and out of here four times in the last six months. You were barely out for two weeks this time around." Graham is already up out of his chair, frantically pacing back and forth across the room.

"You can't do that. You can't just lock me up against my will I've done nothing wrong. Fuck you, you don't just get to make those kinds of choices for me. It's my life and if I want to end it than-"

"Graham you know that I am obligated to help you. I cannot allow you to talk about wanting to die and release you again. I've taken an oath and I have to uphold it regardless of what you seem to want. This wasn't something I wanted to do, but this time your actions put not only yourself but others in harm's way. That girl who swerved to miss you hit a lamp post. Luckily she was alright but what if there had been people on the walkway? Or she hadn't been so lucky. Could you imagine the repercussions mentally for her if she had hit you and you'd have died? She'd have carried that around with her for the rest of her life. It doesn't matter if her hitting you was your intention, how would she know that?"

"I didn't think it that way. It wasn't something I'd thought out this time. I just decided to step off the curb since doing it myself hadn't been working." Graham confessed. The doctor sighed again.

"Graham, I think you need serious help. Help that we can't offer you because unfortunately, we don't have the resources or space to keep anyone here for the amount of time it's going to take to get to the root of your problems. As you are aware by now section three allows us to detain you for treatment and evaluation for a period of up to six months, at this time-"

"Six months!" His tone remains flat but He does raise his voice at the thought. "Hold the fuck on, you're not telling me I'm going away for six months. I thought I was going to get released today! I've been here two weeks now and instead I've been sectioned?! You can't do this!"

"And what would you have done if we had allowed you out today? What's your plan this time? I know you've got one and you don't intend to fail again. You're not stable and we feel that you are a danger not only to yourself but others as we-"

"It was an impulsive move! I wasn't thinking about it I just did it. I hadn't thought about it until I had actually done it!" Graham ranted.

"So you admit that your plans are becoming less premeditated and you're struggling with impulse control. Do you think that's to do with your habitual alcohol abuse or-"

"For fuck sake! I wasn't drunk!" Graham can see the doctor scribbling things in his file. The thought of what claims he could be making and how they would affect him in the future made him feel queasy. As the doctor closes his file he meets Graham's eyes giving him a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry Graham, the decision has already been made. There's nothing I can do to change it now. Even if there was I wouldn't be inclined to. I think you need this. Now, I'm not saying that they are going to keep you for the entire six months. They might find it unnecessary and choose to release you before then. That's all going to be up to you and the progress that you make, so I would suggest that you are more cooperative with their staff then you have been with ours in the past. You're also able to appeal for release if you would like but I would advise against it."

"This isn't happening... this isn't happening... this isn't happening..." Graham repeated to himself over and over as he leaned against the wall. He fisted his hands into his hair on either side of his head, causing his glasses to tilt upwards obscuring his ability to see.

"I'm afraid it is... Now I'm going to need you to go and gather your things we'll be moving you this afternoon. You're dismissed." He doctor said looking back down at his notes as Graham continued to work himself into a panic.

By early evening Graham was being driven across town, slightly sedated after his outburst that afternoon which had ended with him trying unsuccessfully to bite through his own tongue. Though it was hardly half-past four the was dark with storm clouds as they pulled up to the long drive to the brick building that would be his new home for the time being.

"I think you'll like it here Graham," the nurse next to him in the back of the van tells him. She's a petite blond woman in her mid-forties named Doreen. She's always been very kind to him enough so that Graham actually enjoyed her company on occasion. She was a third shift nurse but had come in a little early wanting to see him off. If there was anyone on the ward Graham had held any attachment to it was her. From time to time, when he felt the world starting to close in around him she would sit with him. Usually it was in the middle of the night when all of the other patients were asleep. They never talked much during nights like those, but just the presence of another when everything felt so bleak to him was a comfort. He'd sit up under the sheets, she'd sit next to him and hold his hand while tears rolled down his face.

He makes a noise to dismiss her statement. "What makes you think that?" He grumbled.

"You'll be able to make more of a home of it," Doreen said. "We contacted your mum, she's going to bring some of you things by in the next couple days."

"Oh, that's thrilling because I'm such a materialistic man," Graham rolled his eyes. The idea of having to interact with his mother sounded absolutely dreadful.

"It does make a difference you know," Doreen sighed. "The doctors here are wonderful too and you'll have a bit more freedom. Look, some of the residents are even outside." She said pointing out three people kicking a football around on the lawn. Graham hardly pays attention to them, he only sees the large security guards behind them watching their every move.

"Don't like to go outside. It's always raining,"

"Could you try for five minutes to see the positives in things?" Doreen asks.

"But I don't see the positives in life that's why I'm here innit?" Graham asks her with a sarcastic smile that almost causes the woman to laugh. They both know it's true.

From the moment he walks in the door it's a whirlwind of activity around him. There's a slightly tearful goodbye from Doreen who tells him she hopes it's the last time that she sees him. "Only for good reason's though," She'd insisted. " You're going to be just fine." He doesn't say it but he really would miss the comfort that she brought him from time to time.

Upon arrival all of his belongings had been searched, not that he had much with him. Just some clothing, his sneakers, glasses, toothbrush, things of that nature. Then they had searched him to make sure he wasn't hiding anything he ought not to have... That had been a less than pleasant experience. After that had been a physical and his intake evaluation followed by finally getting a look around the place. They showed him around to the different places he'd been to know including the common areas for the residents. He met his doctors and they went over his schedule for treatment, or at least what it would be for now.

"And this will be your room." The nurse who was showing him around said when they reached a small room at the end of the hall. Across from the doorway in which they stood there was a bed underneath a window with a desk next to it in the corner. On the opposite side of the room was another bed. Taped to the wall around it where different drawings of what seemed to be cartoon characters. On the bed sat a man that Graham would guess to be roughly his same age who had been too busy doodling in the notebook on his lap to look up. His hair was short and an absolute mess and his facial hair seemed to run a bit wild, growing into a somewhat patchy scruff that couldn't really be described by the word beard.

"Jamie...Jamie... JAMIE!" The nurse had to call his name three times, each increasing in volume before he finally looked up revealing a pair of blue eyes. "Jamie this is your new roommate Graham Coxon. Graham this is Jamie Hewlett."

"Hi there," Jamie said with a broad smile that Graham found a bit sinister. It was something about his teeth and the fact that, by the looks of his face, he'd recently lost a fight. Graham muttered an almost inaudible 'hello' accompanied with a shy wave.

"I'll leave you boys to get antiquated," The nurse said as Graham crossed the room to put his bag down on the bed. "Oh, and Jamie, I'll be needing those colored pencils back, you know that they're not allowed to leave the rec room," She scolded as she approached his bed.

"I'm not hurting anything having them," Jamie huffed. "Noodle just wanted to finish her drawing but that twat Liam kept trying to take the right colors away so I brought them in here."

"Doesn't matter the reason. You know the rules." The nurse held out her hand expectantly, waiting as Jamie finally placed the pencil into her palm.

"When can I have my markers back?" He asked.

"When you learn not to draw on the walls with them," she replied.

"I told you that wasn't me!" Jamie insisted.

"Regardless of who it was it was on your wall and it took quite a lot of scrubbing to get it to come off. You'll get them back when you show us you can handle them," the nurse nodded, taking the pencils and leaving the room.

"Wasn't me, really!" Jamie insisted looking over at Graham. "It's was noodle, but you can't really blame her she's just a kid. She's only ten. Very creative too, she doesn't like to be cooped up in here like this. God knows she's been here as long as I have."

"Hmm," Is all graham replies with and a slight nod as he sits on the edge of the bed playing nervously with the hem of the blanket. He was a bit surprised to hear that the facility was home to someone so young.

"You know you can talk to me. I won't bite. It's Murdoc that you've got to worry about he's quite a nasty fellow but they usually keep him locked up so you won't see him to often." Jamie smiled. "You're name is Graham right? I'm sure we'll end up being great mates. It's so nice to have company again I've been without a roommate for about a week and a half now."

"What happened to the last one?" Graham asked. Jamie seemed friendly enough. If they were going to be cohabitating he might as well make an effort to get to know him.

"He's in Solitary. Not sure when he's going to be getting out. He tried to beat my skull in with a sock full of domino tiles while I was asleep. Got a couple of good wacks before Alex pulled him off me. Alex is one of the night nurses. Nice guy, stay on his good side and he'll help you out." Jamie winked. So that explained the state of Jamie's face and made Graham feel marginally better to know it hadn't been a fight started by the man who'd be sleeping only a few feet away.

"That the uuuuh.... Murdoc you mentioned? The one that did that to you?" Graham asked. It might benefit him to know who to look out for since he was in a new place.

"No, no Murdoc and I can't live together. He lives with 2D." Jamie told him.

"2D?" was that supposed to be someone's name? Or was it a nickname of some sort. Seeing Graham's confusion Jamie Elaborated.

 "His name is actually Stuart, but we call him 2D on account of the two dents in his head. Got fractures in either eye that have caused them to turn black, it's really something to see. Nice guy, I feel a bit bad for him sometimes," Jamie shrugged. "So how did you end up in here?"

"History of depression and suicidal tendencies," Graham shrugged. There's no need to hide it. In a place like this, there must be something wrong with all of them.

"So you're just sad? Or did you actually do something? I crashed a car through the shop front of a keyboard store. It was in the middle of the night so there was nobody there. I didn't hurt anyone! I don't even really remember it if I'm honest. C'mon it's dinner time lets go." Jamie insists before Graham has time to question his previous statement any further.

Luckily seats aren't assigned like they had been on the ward before so he sat with Jamie at a small square table in the corner. Graham had been worried about not knowing where to sit at meal times. Little things like that had always bothered him. He would build up the smallest detail into a nightmare scenario in his head which only added to his naturally avoidant and somewhat awkward behavior. He'd always been shy even as a child and when he'd hit puberty the train in his mind had come off it's rails making him into the unstable excuse for a young adult he now was.

He'd been hoping that the other two seats would stay open but one is quickly filled by a boy who comes walking in with more swagger than anyone trapped in a place like this ought to have. He doesn't sit immediately but comes to stand next to the chair Jamie is sitting in. "Oi, fucker, how's your face?" He asked as he reached down to steal a piece of bread off Jamie's tray only to have his hand slapped away.

"They've let you out already?" Jamie asked without looking up as the boy finally took the seat next to him and directly across from Graham.

"It's probationary for the time being. Meal times and maybe a bit during the afternoon. The doctor is letting me 'prove that my behavior is under control' before I'm allowed back into the general population. I've got to show that I'm trustworthy. Look!" He pulls one leg up to put his foot on the unoccupied part of the table. "I'm not allowed socks anymore because of you,"

"No, you're not allowed to have socks anymore because of YOU," Jamie corrected with a sideways glance. There's no bite to his remark it's more teasing than anything. Was this the past roommate that Jamie had told him about? Why did he seem so calm around someone who had tried to kill him? Had the intention been to kill him?

"Yeah, that's what I said, isn't it? Can't have them because of you," The boy tease as one of the nurses came by.

"Albarn, feet off the table." He said handing him a tray of food which finally calmed him down as he and Jamie giggled to each other.

"So who's the new kid then? Have you replaced me already?" He asked causing Graham to look up from where he'd been staring at his bowl of Mashed potatoes.

"Oh, right, introductions are in order! Damon this is Graham my new roommate who has already replaced you in my heart. Graham this is Damon the psycho who tried to cave my head in but for some reason want's to pretend like everything is alright now," Jamie said.

"You lying little fucker, you don't have a heart and even if you did you would never replace me," Damon says through a mouth full of sandwich. It's only then at Graham actually looks up at this 'Damon' character that's now been introduced into this new narrative. For some reason the image that he's met with doesn't at all align with the one in his mind moments before when he'd been listening in on the conversation going on around him. His sandy blond hair is artfully messy in a way that says he doesn't care, though he must have just fixed it like that just moments ago, with long fringe sweeping down over his forehead. His face is boyish and bright with possibly the most perfectly pointed nose that Graham has ever seen on another person. Real people don't have features like that. The kicker though, the thing that tells Graham that he is well and truly fucked is when Damon's eyes meet his own. They are the most piercing shade of deep blue he's ever seen in his life, but there is an intense uncaring coldness behind them that sends shockwaves of fear pulsating through every inch of his body. "Hello Graham," he drawls with a smirk that makes Graham's stomach churn. How could someone with only a few words appear so charming and so terrifying simultaneously " You going to eat that?" He asks, reaching for the cup of blue Jello on Graham's tray. Graham shakes his head several times but doesn't speak as he averts his eyes down to look at his lap.

"Could you keep your hands to yourself for ten seconds you Klepto?" Jamie asked.

"Not a Klepto!" Damon insisted.

"No, if stealing things was your greatest issue I think we'd all be much happier," Jamie jokes, shooting Damon a look. Graham is now starting to notice that there is a very distinct pattern to Jamie's speech. The way he enunciates his words and draws out his syllables. It adds a certain depth to his expression that Graham finds rather interesting.

"So what's wrong with him then? Mute?" Damon asked pointing at Graham.

"No, just shy I think. He's only said a handful of words since I've met him," Jamie said. "He's not a social creature like you or I." Both boys laugh as if it were some inside joke.

"Right then, so what's wrong with you?" Damon's eyes flick back over to Graham and he can feel them on him, watching every move he tries not to make. He's is very uneasy under Damon's gaze. Graham doesn't look at him this time and simply shrugs. "Not going to look at me eh? Are you mad I took your Jello? They won't let me have my own anymore since they took away my eating utensils." Damon informs him as he picks up one of the cubes from the bowl and slurps it into his mouth. "Got another couple weeks without fork or spoons,"

"That's because you stabbed a fork into someone's leg, and you're lucky it didn't go deeper! You could have hit an artery!" Jamie rolled his eyes looking over at Graham. "There are lots of things that Damon isn't allowed to have because he tries to use them as weapons."

"I understand them taking the forks away but why can't I have a fucking spoon! It would be nice to eat something hot once in a while it's been over a month," Damon said. "It's true though, there's loads of things that they've taken away from me. I'm surprised that they still let me have my clothes."

"That's because I don't think anyone wants to see you walking around naked Damon, thank you," Jamie smirks.

"Dunno, I can think of a few people that might not mind." Damon winks and Graham is becoming less and less comfortable with the conversation. "I'm just glad they still let me have my shoes. Had to take the laces out though."

"They took my laces too..." Graham finally decides to speak up, finding something in common with the man who has dominated the conversation ever since he'd sat down.

"He Speaks!" Damon announced as if anyone around them would care. Most of them probably hadn't even noticed that Graham was there, and that was the way that he preferred it. "So what are you then? Violent or suicidal?"

"You don't have to be one or the other to have your laces taken Damon, don't pester the poor boy if he doesn't want to tell you what his diagnosis is he doesn't have to. Leave him be, he's just gotten here. At least let him adjust before you start harassing him." Jamie said, jabbing Damon in the side with his pointer finger and causing him to choke on his juice box.

"Fine you don't have to tell me, but know it's going to be a common question in here. Everyone is fairly open about it. There's something off with all of us, so you might as well we upfront about it. We've all done something to land ourselves here. There's really no shame and hiding what makes you sick is only going to make it worse." Damon says, he's practically leaned across the table now and although they're still separated by a few feet of wood Graham is feeling like Damon is far to close to being in his personal space. He doesn't like people inside his 'bubble' especially strangers and touching him you can just forget about altogether!

Graham slides down in his chair to put more distance between them, glancing sideways at the floor until Damon finally backs off. "Fine then, you done? Let's go watch TV I've only got so much time before they throw me back into solitary," He says getting up. Jamie automatically follows his lead.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," He nodded. "C'mon Graham," He waves him along and part of Graham is glad to be included even though Damon makes him entirely uncomfortable. Everyone else is still eating meaning there is only one man sitting in the common room. He's an older gentleman with a striped bathrobe over his clothes, a cane by his side, and no hair on his head. He's sitting in the chair next to the couch in the center of the room. Damon quickly snatches the clicker away from him and starts flipping through channels, taking the middle seat on the couch.

"You little brat! I was watching that!" The man yelled, taking off a slipper and throwing it at Damon who caught it and tossed it back with less force.

"Sod off Earl, I'm only out for a bit lemme have it," Damon insists, patting the seat on his left side. "Graham come sit next to me. I'll protect you from the dirty old man," He jokes. Damon and Jamie both laugh as Earl gets to his feet and shuffles off down the hall with one slipper on and the other in the hand not occupied by his cane.

Graham does eventually go to sit next to Damon although he tries to keep as much distance in between them as possible. He makes himself as small as possible, clinging to the arm of the couch in order to leave some room as a buffer between them. Jamie, on the other hand, takes the other side pressing himself as close to Damon as possible. Again Graham finds this incredibly odd because the gash above his eyebrow and the bruises around his eyes are from the man next to him literally beating him with a sock full of hard objects. If someone did that to him Graham knows he would certainly never speak to that person again much less be cuddling up to them like some sort of loyal lapdog.

He did have to admit that Damon had quite a personality whether he likes it or not. Graham actually found it a bit obnoxious as he did most boisterous people. He obviously had quite the ego with the way he strutted around as if he owned the place. However, it cannot be denied that he does instantly find Damon to be incredibly attractive. His sexuality is one thing that Graham has never had any hang-ups about although everyone around him seemed to. Sure, when the idea had first crossed his mind that he might fancy other boys there was some alarm and confusion. He'd only been eleven or twelve at the time of his first crush. Society had bred into his mind that it was abnormal to feel this way about someone of the same sex, but Graham had never been a normal boy so it seemed to suit him just fine after his initial dismay. It was his family and friends that seemed to have trouble coping with the idea. His family swept it under the rug, both of his parents telling him that it was 'just a phase' (it wasn't) and he'd 'Grow out of it' (he hadn't). His friends, the few that he'd had anyways being the shy creature that he was, had turned their backs on him. That's when the bullying had started to become a daily occurrence. With no one to stick up for him, and no courage to stick up for himself that had likely been the starting point of his depression. Although, he couldn't really remember at this point if he'd been happy before he'd come out, or ever for that matter. He'd always likened himself to an overcast day, but the cloud cover had just grown thicker, darker, and more unending with time. It was his own way of Graying with age much too early.

"Got to keep an eye out for that Earl. He's a pervert, young cute little thing like you ought to watch your back," Damon said. Graham had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed that Damon had leaned over close to him to speak in a hushed voice over the dreadful song coming from the TV. "Dunno how many times Jamie and I have caught him wanking in random places over the years." Graham simply nodded, trying to retreat further though stopped by the arm of the couch. Damon gives him a devilish smirk and leans in closer. "What's wrong Graham I'm not going to hurt you." The way he says it makes Graham's throat feel like it's closing Damon is only inches away from him now and although he's mostly terrified part of him is almost aroused by the other boy's close proximity and malicious gaze until-

"STOP IT!" He finally shouts at Damon, shoving him with both hands and causing him to knock into Jamie. Damon busted into an evil cackle and Graham springs up from the couch.

"Oh for fucks sake would you lay off him. Let him be...scoot down," Jamie said shoving Damon down to the end of the couch where Graham had just sat. Jamie moved to the middle leaving the end seat open. "C'mon. I won't let him bother you anymore," It's kind of Jamie to try, but Graham is over it. He's over this day, he's over this place and in the less than an hour he's known him he's already had enough of Damon.

"I'm going to bed," Graham muttered, stalking off down the hall with his shoulder's hunched.

"Graham!" Jamie calls after him, but he's already halfway down the lengthy florescent lit corridor.

"Now look what you've done!" Jamie said, flipping off MTV and getting up from the couch as well.

"I was just having a little fun with him!" Damon insisted.

"He's obviously not in the mood for your sort of fun Damon. Can't you read people at all? No, of course you can't why do I even bother asking. The boy is already nervous and you're just making it worse," Jamie scolded.

"Oh, so big brother Russel is going to come to his rescue?" Damon baited. Jamie reached a hand out, grabbing Damon by his shirt collar and hauling him up from his place on the couch.

"You'd better hope you didn't scare him too bad or we're going to have a problem," he said. He let go of Damon's collar and headed back to their room to check on Graham. Damon figures it best to know when he's beaten and followed along to go and offer an apology even if he doesn't understand why he needs to.

Graham has already taken his shoes off and is huddled in the corner of his bed with his knees curled up to his chest with his arms looped around him and his head down. Jamie is unclear as to whether or not Damon has actually caused him to cry. As they stand in the doorway he elbows the insensitive brute in the gut and pushes him forward. "Ow, that hurts you know." Damon said rubbing his side. Graham, alerted to their whereabouts looked up quickly. Jamie is relieved to see that Graham's eyes aren't red and appear to be dry although his breathing does seem to be a bit uneven.

"Good, It was supposed to," Jamie says, narrowing his eyes at Damon. Graham noticed that his voice seemed a bit different now. His voice slightly deeper and his accent and inflections less pronounced as if they had disappeared.

"I uh, I'm sorry. I guess." Damon shrugged, walking over and sitting on the edge of Graham's bed, keeping a good bit of distance between them to avoid upsetting him further. "I was just playing," He added as if that made it better.

"I don't like strangers that close, It makes me anxious..." Graham admitted as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Most of the time he's not so quick to panic, but it had been an emotional roller coaster of a day and the aggressive energy that Damon radiated hadn't helped any.

"Right, I'll keep that in mind then," Damon said standing up and walking back over to Jamie who was now sat on his own bed. "Best get back to my own side of the ward. If he nurses have to track me down then I doubt they'll let me out again. Hopefully I'll see you in at breakfast time." He says, leaning down to give Jamie a quick kiss on the lips which shocks Graham and makes Jamie smile. His sunnier demeanor replacing the angry one only moments before and... had Graham only imagined the shift in his voice?

 "If you don't behave I'll tell them you've been tormenting the new arrival. That ought to earn you another week locked up all by yourself," Jamie said, leaning forward for one more kiss.

"Please don't it's lonely in there. I don't have monkey's running around my head to keep me company," Damon laughed on his way out the door. It clicked shut behind him as he disappeared.

"He's an odd one, Damon. Sorry about him, he doesn't really... I can't say he doesn't notice when he puts people on edge. He obviously knows its just a question of if he cares enough to stop usually the answer is no. He's quite a button pusher that one," Jamie explained. Now that they were alone Graham started to open up from the tight ball he'd pulled himself into.

"Can I ask you something that might seem a little um... offensive?" Graham asked rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sure, What?" Jamie asked.

"Why do you hang around with him?" Graham asked.

"I-" Jamie sighed. "Have a very complicated relationship with Damon," he huffed.

"So, is it like..." Graham doesn't really want to ask about the kiss. Is there a chance that he's not the only one on the ward that is 'like him'?

"Damon and I have been in and out of this facility since we were very young. We lived together in the children's ward across the lawn." Jamie said pointing out the window to a detached building across the lawn. In the window, he could see the silhouettes of several children all huddled into the illuminated front room. Of course there must be a children's ward, Jamie had been talking about a ten-year-old girl earlier that he knew. "Once we turned eighteen we both had to come over here. Much more strict here, the grass is obviously greener on that side of the lawn. That's not to say that it's bad here, it's what you make of it really. I'm quite alright here, but then, I think sometimes that I have it easier than he does." Jamie said, slipping off his shoes and lying back on his own bed. "See, Damon and I, although our problems are very different have a lot in common and especially in those younger years it is comforting to have someone your own age who shares some of your experiences."

"No matter how long you've known each other doesn't it bother you that he tried to kill you?" Graham asked.

"He didn't try to kill me. Damon doesn't have the nerve to actually kill anyone. He just wanted to hurt me. It's not the first time and it won't be the last time. Not to say that he's not told me his plans to kill me before, but I'd be quite lonely if I let that scare me off. I know him enough by now to know that he's all talk. He just likes to hurt people because it gets him a reaction that feeds the darkness inside of him. That and he likes a bit of chaos, especially when it gets him attention."

"Do you mind if I ask why you've been in here so long?" Graham asked.

"You don't have to be worried about offending me. I'm not a hothead like Damon and Murdoc, you can ask whatever you like," Jamie tilted his head smiling in a way that reminded Graham a bit of the Cheshire cat's grin. He's sure if he'd shut off the lamp at that moment he could see it even in the dark. " But, for every question that I answer you've got to answer one of mine as well."

"I dunno about that..." Graham muttered. He can keep his curiosity to himself for the time being if it means not having to say anything about himself.

 "What if I promise not to ask anything too intrusive? At least for now until we get to know each other better. You can say no if you don't want to answer." Jamie suggested. It wouldn't hurt them to get to know each other a bit. "If we're going to live together for a while we might as well get acquainted. You know, I've never actually had a roommate other than Damon."

It's only then that Graham comes to the realization that this might not be as easy for Jamie as it seems to be. He knows he would be wary if he were in a situation where someone brand new had invaded his space. "Alright, guess it wouldn't hurt..." Graham admitted.

"Alright, you've already asked a question so it's my turn. We'll start easy. How old are you?" Jamie asked.

"twenty, you? Wait, does that could as a question?" Graham asked.

"I should count it as two because you had to ask!" Jamie jokes. "But no. I won't count it. I'm twenty-.one, same as Damon is He and I are just a week and a bit apart. What was your question again? I believe there was something you asked before."

"Right, um..." Graham had to think for a moment. "Why have you been here for so long?" He asked.

 "Ah, what Damon and I or just me in particular?" Jamie asked.

"Doesn't matter," Graham shrugged.

"The two of us have been in and out for a very long time because neither of us has been able to balance our disorders on the outside for more than... I think the longest I've been out without hospitalization was a year, and for Damon, it was probably a little bit less than that. I remember him being very upset that he hadn't made it to the year mark and I had so he tried to smother me in my sleep. Couldn't take the idea that I'd been more successful than he had." Jamie laughed at the memory. "We both have very different issues but they make it very difficult for us to cope outside. Neither of us can hold a job, relationships with other people are very hard to maintain, we both have trouble with impulse control, and on multiple occasions have been deemed hazardous to others."

"You seem... very normal to me," Graham admits.

 "That's because you've caught me on a good day," Jamie laughed. "I'm usually fairly alright it's the moments when I'm not that makes it difficult and there are more of those than I would like to admit. I'm not violent though! Damon is the violent one, I just sort of-" Jamie pauses to look for the word. "Loose touch. It's not safe out there for me. Here at least I'm looked after. Not that people like me can't be totally ordinary, functioning members of society many of them can! I'm just not one of those people."

"Oh, I see. Apparently they think I'm a threat now too," Graham said. "I um... I was walking to the corner store to go and get a milk and I just... walked into traffic. It wasn't a busy road or anything but there was a car coming fast enough that I knew they wouldn't have time to stop. I didn't think that the girl behind the wheel would have time enough to swerve. She jumped a curb and went into a lamp post. I should have gone to help her, but I didn't. I was in shock. She got out of the car and her head was bleeding, I do remember that much. I do remember her screaming at me about how I'd pay for wrecking her car. I didn't say anything I just sat on the ground and waited for the cops to arrive trying to figure out if I'd actually been responsible or not. It was like an out of body experience."

"I know exactly what you mean about feeling out of body. That happens to me quiet often but I think on a slightly more intense scale," Jamie said. He's a bit surprised that Graham had been open about his reason for being hospitalized. He hadn't been planning to ask. "Where are you from?"

"Was born in West Germany but I've been living alone in London while my family is back in Colchester," Graham said. "What about you?"

"Not sure where exactly I came from. I was dropped off in a small wooden shipping crate at a orphanage somewhere in Sussex, not sure exactly where now. First Foster family I remember was in Horsham so I'll say there." Jamie said. "Although really I've lived here more than I have lived anywhere else if I'm honest. I eventually became too much to handle so I couldn't be placed with families any longer." Graham wonders how Jamie keeps such a good sense of humor about something that seemed so dark and foreign to him.

"Doesn't it make you sad not to have a family?" Graham asked.

"It's my turn to ask you something!" Jamie protested. " What do you like to do with your free time? I like to draw." Graham can tell this is true by the pictures above his head on the wall.

"I play guitar a lot. Sometimes I write songs, but it's been a while since I've come up with one." Graham said. His songwriting is one of the few things that he's entirely comfortable with talking about.

"You and Damon are going to get on great in that case. He's always writing songs. There's a guitar in the rec room. It's not out though it's kept in the game closet. I'll show you tomorrow!"Jamie said. Graham is about to say that he's got no intention of spending any time with Damon but keeps his mouth shut. "And to answer your question, yes. Occasionally I wish I had a family, but I've got friends. Murdoc can be a bit of a pain. He's quite grumpy, but other times he can be really funny whether he intends to be or not. 2D is really cool. He's not very bright and he's a bit of a crybaby, but he's got a great heart. Then there's noodle, she's absolutely brilliant, a child genius, tough as nails and just as sweet as can be. We've all been trying to help her learn English because she's actually from Japan. She's picked it up very quickly. I'm surprised. There's also Russel. He's my protector in a way. He sticks up for me usually, and the others too. Really he doesn't like to see anyone upset. He's a gentle Giant. I have them I don't really need much else except for Damon. Think my world might actually crumble without him," Jamie sighed.

"Are you two uh... a couple?" Graham asked.

"No! God no, we're just comfortable with each other," Jamie said quickly. "Why you have a problem with two men kissing each other? You're not homophobic are you?"

"No! No! Of course not. I'm actually well..." Graham doesn't know why the words get stuck in his throat this time. He's said them a million times before without hesitation. "I'm gay."

"Oh...No worries you're in good company," Jamie said smiling a bit. "We ought to get some sleep. They wake us up at the crack of dawn around here."

"Alright, yeah good idea. It's been a long day. I do have one last question though...What's actually wrong with you Jamie?" Graham asked. Jamie just smirked.

"I'm surprised you haven't actually figured it out yet. I'm inclined to let you find out for yourself." and with that Jamie is up and off to the bathroom to wash up for bed leaving a very perplexed Graham behind.


	2. Imagining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A\N: Sorry that this took so long to get posted. I've had it finished for a while now, but couldn't seem to find time to edit it. I promise that the updates will be quicker in the future ( the next one is actually partially finished) 
> 
> In addition, I'm thinking about doing a short set of Gramon fics that are kinda one-shots but tie together. There would likely be five of them or so sort of exploring some of the headcanons I have about Damon's sexuality and experimentation. I've already started writing the first one. Is there anyone would be interested in reading it? Let me know. I hope you all like this chapter. Love you all <3

Mornings on the new ward are almost indistinguishable from the one before. Before the sun has even risen the lights have been flipped on in the the room waking them up. Graham sighed opening his eyes. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand, putting them on and looking around. Standing in the doorway is a man who doesn't look much taller or older than Graham himself. Those minute factors aside they could not have looked more different from one another. The other boy's hair was a deep brown color with long side swept bangs. His eyes were almost the same colors. His frame was lanky, but not in the weakly thin way that Graham's had become. Somehow even at such an absurd hour, he stood tall with his shoulders back and a friendly smile on his face. He seemed like someone that belonged on a catwalk during London fashion week rather than waking up a couple of surly patients in a psychiatric ward. Graham might have found him attractive if he didn't have such a bias towards light eyes. Not that there was anything wrong with darker eyes, but having them himself he found them to be rather soulless. Maybe it was just his own eyes that seemed to lack spark. They weren't like Jamie's eyes that hid secrets, or Damon's eyes that went right through you. Oddly enough he'd dreamed of Damon's eyes in the short time that he had managed to fall into a deep enough sleep to dream. Not Damon himself, just his eyes and the way they were so full of light. He shook the thought off as he sat up on the bed. 

“Morning boys, get dressed it's breakfast time,” He said smiling at Graham as he approached him. “You must be the new patient they mentioned to me this morning. I'm Alex, nice to meet you. I've been told to keep a particularly close eye on you. Get changed, leave the bathroom door open, I don't want any funny business from you alright Graham?” Alex said, winking at him. So this was the one that Jamie and Damon had mentioned? The one who's good side he was supposed to do his best to stay on. In an effort to do so for at least the time being Graham picked up his clothes from his bag and walked off to the bathroom to dress himself and get cleaned up to start the day. Meanwhile, Alex seemed to have his hands full trying to get Jamie out of bed. As he brushed his teeth and washed up graham couldn't help but overhear parts of the conversation happening between the two. 

“Haven't you gotten any sleep?” Alex had asked along with some other questions. “What was it about?” “Is that what's bothering you?” Jamie's replies are only muttered and with the taps running Graham can't quite make them out. Really, he shouldn't be listening in to begin with.

When Graham returned for his shoes a moment later he noticed that Alex was still standing in the doorway waiting for Graham but Jamie was nowhere to be found. Graham slipped his old worn in converse on taking his time to tie his laces to prolong the process and avoid interacting with other people for just a little while longer. He figuring that Jamie had just gone to eat breakfast without him. He soon realizes that this isn't the case when he and Alex walk into the dining room and Jamie is nowhere to be found. “Where's Jamie gone?” He asks Alex as he looks down the hallway for any sign of the only person that makes him feel slightly less nervous. 

"He'll be back later." Is the only answer he receives from Alex along with a slightly apologetic smile.

Graham sits at the same table from the night before, although now he's the only person occupying it. It's not as though he isn't used to being alone. He just wishes that Jamie was around just in case- 

“Morning Greg!” … and that is exactly what he was worried about. Graham didn't look up from his bowl of Cheerios in front of him. He doesn't say a word to the blond boy with the piercing blue eyes that has settled himself to the left of him. “Where's my Gorilla gotten to? He being slow this morning? Jamie's not the morning type, he can be a real hassle in this early.” Again Damon is met with silence. If there is one thing you should never do its ignore Damon Albarn. He does NOT take kindly to that sort of behavior. “Greg?” He repeated prodding Graham in the side and leaning close to him. No response, no reaction. “Oi, face-ache can you hear me? Didn't know you were deaf too!"

“Graham... my name is GRAHAM!” Graham growled looking up briefly to glare at Damon. 

“Right, I'll try and remember that,” Damon said biting into his toast and giving Graham a sideways glance. “Now are you going to answer my question? Where's Jamie?” 

“Dunno,” Graham replied. He's not in any mood to deal with Damon. It's too early and after just a short time with him the previous day Graham is very sure that he want's absolutely nothing to do with the man next to him. He doesn't want to be stabbed with forks, socked in his sleep, or any of the other gruesome things that Jamie had mentioned Damon doing. 

“So it's going to be one of those mornings eh?” Damon snorted as he tried to smear Jelly on his toast using the packet itself to spread the jam to keep his fingers from getting sticky. He'd become fairly good at coping without utensils. He was hoping to be able to have at least spoons soon. Forks might take a bit longer but knives were going to be out of the picture for the remainder of his time in the institution... but he would be getting out soon and then everything would be fine and he could move on with his life. 

Graham is having the same thought as he stared into his milk still full of cereal. He's already working on his plan of action. He needs to decide exactly what it is he's going to say to his therapist in their first session today. If he plays his cards right then it could possibly ensure him being released sooner then the maximum six months they're allowed to hold him captive here against his will. Once he gets out then he can worry about what is in store for him next and how to carry out his final plans. You see despite anyone's efforts Graham has no intention of 'getting better'. From the moment his mind was first made up as a teenager there was nothing that anyone could say or do to sway his decision. He wanted to die and that was the end of it. Some attempts at so-called fixing him would do nothing to reverse this choice because he never saw himself as the problem. Sure, there were many things he found flawed in himself, but all of those things were superficial. The fact was he saw that there was something fundamentally wrong with the world around him that drove him to this point. He'd become so lost in his own head that he didn't notice that Damon was still talking. 

“Have you been listening to me at all?” Damon asked, snapping his fingers in front of Graham's face in order to regain his attention earning him a glare from Graham. 

“Would you fuck off? I'm trying to think,” He snapped. 

“Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning? I was just trying to be nice to you because you're new, but I guess that was a mistake,” Damon snarled getting up and from the table and taking the remainder of his breakfast with him. Graham has once again tuned him out, assuming that Damon finally took the hint and went to bother someone else. The thing that he doesn't see it the other boy sitting alone across the room because absolutely no one wants to be anywhere near him. However, unlike Graham who is simply agitated, they are all afraid. Everyone is afraid of him except for Jamie who is nowhere to be found. 

“Tell me, Graham, when did you start to become depressed? Was it perhaps something in your childhood that started these feelings of inadequacy?” The doctor asked in their session later in the afternoon. Graham had spent the better part of the morning sitting alone in the corner of the common room. Jamie was still absent from the group and to his delight Damon had been locked up again shortly after breakfast so there was no one around to bother him. A couple of the other residents had tried to make small talk but Graham has simply ignored them. Lunch had come with an odd revelation for him. He was already starting to dread meal times because they were the only occasion that Damon was released from his confinement. He couldn't fathom the type of stress that he would be under once Damon was allowed back into the general population of the ward's inhabitants. Maybe Graham could find some way to ensure that he stayed in solitary permanently. That shouldn't be too hard if the other man continued to terrorize and induce extreme anxiety in him like he had the night before. Although, getting Damon locked up if it wasn't entirely necessary might not leave him on the best terms with Jamie who seemed to be fond of Damon...VERY fond of Damon. 

Graham had been sitting alone that afternoon when Damon had come to join him. He glared, about to protest that he wanted to be left alone when Damon spoke first. “Look, I won't say anything, but... I don't really want to sit alone again,” Graham just gave him a nod and went back to staring at his untouched lunch tray waiting until he could get up and get away from Damon. Although sitting in silence with him didn't seem to be so bad other than the fact that occasionally he could feel Damon's eyes on him which made his skin crawl. 

“Guess I've always felt this way. Maybe it started with the glasses. It wasn't so much that other children teased me. It was more the fact that I felt there was something wrong with me for needing them. They meant that I was somehow damaged,” Graham replied. “Think I was just born like this, with all sorts of defects.” Deep down he knows that his perceived 'defects' are only a small part of the much larger issues at hand. 

“Was this an idea that you parents reinforced in you?” The therapist asked. 

“No, my parents were very supportive. They weren't overbearing or anything always told me that as long as I gave it my all that was the most that anyone could expect of me. Really this has nothing to do with them. They where wonderful people. I had a great childhood or as good of one as I could with my attitude. The problem has never been anything my parents did or didn't do.” Graham said. 

“Yet from what I see in your file you have mentioned that your relationship with your family is quite strained. Particularly when it comes to your mother. Would you care to elaborate on that?” He's asked. 

Graham takes a moment to look around the new office that he's going to be spending a good deal of time in from this point on. It looks like something out of a television show. As opposed to the small conference rooms that were used at the hospital by many rotating doctors that worked on the ward this office had one soul owner Graham's new therapist, Dr. Rowntree. His desk was across the room, elegant and made from a dark wood that Graham couldn't identify. Behind it stood three bookshelves, stacked past the point of being full, with all sorts of beautiful hardbound literature most of it probably being medical guides. The curtains over the windows were currently drawn shut because Graham had immediately upon entering the room mentioned how it was very bright with the direct sunlight coming in through the tall window. Although sunny days were rare Graham had grown to find them obnoxious when they did come and break the cloud cover. He sat on the couch opposite the window and across from him, Dr.Rowntree was seated in his likely expensive leather upholstered chair watching his every move. 

“It's simple really. My mum is a saint and I'm not worthy of her affection. It makes me uncomfortable when people treat me the way she treats me. It's like I couldn't possibly do any wrong,” Graham sighed. In truth, he was the reason that their relationship was an uneasy one. He'd tried everything in his power to push his family away, most importantly his mother. He's always thought that if he could find a way to make himself seem despicable to them then it would be easier on them when he passed. Maybe, if he could make them hate him then he would spare them the heartache and let them see his death as a positive. He would rather his mother think that he had it coming. He wanted to make her believe that he deserved to die just as much as he himself believed it so that when the inevitable finally came she would feel as though a burden had been lifted from her rather than feeling the agonizing sting of losing a son whom she loved. 

“From what I've heard she will be dropping by tomorrow for visiting hours to bring you some things. If it's alright with you I would like to see how the two of you interact with each other. It might help me to gain a better understanding of how you treat interpersonal relationships.” Dr.Rowntree said. 

“Well, Dr.Rown-” 

“Dave, it's alright for you to call me Dave. We're going to be getting to know each other quite well over the next few months Graham and since I use your first name I see no reason that you can't use mine.” 

“Right... Dave. There's not really anything that I can do to stop you so I don't have much of a say in the matter. My hands are tied.” Graham sighed. They both know that it's true, but Graham appreciates the fact that he's being given the illusion of choice.

“True enough. I think that's going to be all for today our hour is up. You're free to go now. I believe everyone else is in the rec room for free time if you'd like to go and join them,” Dave said, getting up from his chair and walking over to his desk. He arranges his new notes into Graham's file that had been sent over from the hospital before taking it and putting it into the bottom drawer which he then locked with a small silver key. The key looks old and slightly ornamental matching the vintage appeal of the desk.

Graham gets up from the couch scoffing at the idea. 'Free time' what are they? primary school children? When he reaches the rec room he's greeted with a familiar face. This time its one that he's actually relieved to see. It appeared that Jamie had come out of hiding and was sitting at a long table across the room with his notebook and a box of pencils in front of him. “Hey, where have you been all morning?” Graham asked sitting down across from Jamie. Jamie only looked up briefly before going back to his coloring. 

“I wasn't feeling very well this morning. Had a bit of a chat with Russel and sorted everything out. Good as new now,” He said, flashing Graham a quick smile. “Hope you haven't been too lonely without me.” 

“Russel your doctor?” Graham asked. He knows that there are several doctor and physicians in residence at the institution. He'd met a few of them when he'd been admitted the afternoon prior, but couldn't remember specific details about any of them, least of all their names. 

“No, he's not a doctor. He just looks out for me you could say,” Jamie replied as he tilted his head to the side and chewed on the end of his navy blue pencil while he contemplated his next move. Graham had noticed the drawings that covered the wall on Jamie's side of the room but hadn't yet taken the time to look closely at any of the images. Until now he'd failed to notice how intricate Jamie's drawings actually were. He seemed to be a very talented young man. A talent like that Graham couldn't help but think was wasted being confined to a place like this where no one could see his work. 

The piece that Jamie was currently working on looked close to completion. With the amount of detail that had been put into it, he must have been working on it for multiple days. Could that have been the same one that he'd been working on when they had first been introduced the day before? Graham hadn't bothered to look at the sketch pad that Jamie had been holding at the time. He'd been too wrapped up in his own misery, wallowing in the fact that he'd been forced to be there in the first place. Whatever Jamie had been doing at the time had been of little concern to him.

The image was brilliantly colorful. Graham assumed that it was an island of sorts springing forth from the center of the ocean. Jutting off the sides of it there were several small docks as well as a lighthouse on the Jetty. The central structure of the island resembles a strange sort of Jagged pink tree like some sort of strawberry bubblegum nightmare. Atop it sat a smattering of smaller trees. A few of them were palms, while the others looked like something stripped from a Doctor Seuss book giving the image a rather fantastical element. Centered on the cotton candy mushroom cloud there was a building the architecture of which seemed very 80's inspired with its rounded design and stark white color. Looming over the rather cheery scene in the left corner was an oncoming storm threatening to take over the brightly colored landscape and flying in along with it was the only character that Graham could see. It was a cloaked figure with an elongated gas mask for a face and bright red orbs where eyes should be. 

Graham wants to ask about the darkness that seems to be spreading over from the top corner that Jamie is currently working on. Some of it is still line art meaning that it's the newest part of the mostly finished drawing. So he finds a more subtle way to ask about it. “What are you working on mate?” He asked Jamie.

Jamie looks up in slow motion, his lip curling and one eyebrow cocking upwards ever so slightly. He's about to open his mouth to speak when the anti-christ whirls into frame causing the temperature to drop and lighting to flash behind him as he takes the chair next to Jamie, swinging an arm around his shoulder. “Don't ask him about his drawings. I'm warning you. You'll never be able to shut him up after that,” Damon said. “I asked thirteen years ago and he's yet to leave me alone!” He leaned closer to Jamie to whisper something in Jamie's ear causing the sweetest smile to grace Jamie's face as he turns to whisper something back behind his hand. 

“Too late, he's already asked! And you wouldn't want me to leave you alone. I'm the only friend you have,” Jamie said excitedly pushing Damon's face away when he tried to kiss his cheek. 

“With someone as... full of personality as you, who needs more than one?” Damon asked looking down at Jamie's notepad and frowning. “Jam, who's that? I don't think I've seen you draw him before.” 

“That,” Jamie said, pointing to the space on the page inhabited by the outline of the odd cloaked figure that Graham had wanted to ask about himself. Maybe at least in this moment, Damon was useful.... Maybe. “Is the boogieman.” 

“Boogieman? You're kidding me, that's kid stuff don't be such a child. There's no such thing as the boogieman. Has noodle been telling you stories again?” Damon teased causing Jamie to gasp as though he were offended. Graham can't tell if they're playing or if Jamie is actually annoyed. 

“There is so! I've just met him last night! He's the fifth horseman of the apocalypse actually, but they rejected him and deiced to be just four instead because four is an even number and it seems more FOURboding that way.” He stops momentarily to laugh at his own pun. “He showed up with a manatee wearing a sombrero. Thought the poor beast was dead until I saw it cry.” Jamie explained. Graham is starting to realize that Jamie has quite a vivid imagination. He must with the sorts of illustrations that he's able to produce. He'd be sure to have a closer look a the ones plastered to the walls of their temporary bedroom. 

“How could something that size carry a manatee?” Damon asked. 

“Because he's a demon obviously or some sort of magic. I haven't got him figured out yet but he's incredibly strong. He's capable of anything that he tries I'd Imagine. I don't particularly want to find out. Hopefully, I won't see him again,” Jamie said putting down his pencil. He leans in a little closer to Damon before saying in a hushed tone that he probably assumed that Graham can't hear. “I think he's got it out for Murdoc...” 

At this point, Graham is starting to become more and more interested in not only the drawing but how Jamie's mind works as well. He hears him add off hand to Damon, louder now, “And don't think he's particularly fond of me either.” He then lets out a sigh and once again resumes his coloring.

“What about this island is that where he's from?” Graham asked earning him a laugh from Jamie. 

“No, no! Of course not! That's Plastic Beach!” Jamie replies as though it is the most obvious thing in the world. At first, he doesn't seem inclined to offer up any further explanation of the location.

“It's a place that we made up as children, sort of our own little fantasy world,” Damon said smiling at Jamie. 

“Oh yes, we used to have hours of fun playing at plastic beach. I remember, the other children would get jealous because I wouldn't ever take any of them there, only Damon. It was Murdoc's idea initially. Really, it's the only useful one that he's ever had. The concept was to create an island away from civilization where nothing and no one could find us and it was to be made entirely from all of the junk floating about in the world's oceans,” Jamie explained. 

“We had just learned about recycling and Jamie had gotten very angry about all of it,” Damon laughed at the memory. “They told us that there are certain parts of the oceans where the currents cause garbage to collect in these patches like floating trash heaps.” 

“I couldn't understand why someone wouldn't just go out there, collect it all up and be done with it. Murdoc suggested that we do it ourselves and recycle the junk into our own safe haven out in the middle of nowhere. It's mostly safe anyways. One time I thought that Damon had been swallowed whole by a whale, but it turned out he was just hiding behind the couch.” Jamie sighed. 

“When I popped back out I told him I'd gotten distracted playing xylophone on its rib bones. In actuality I'd just fallen asleep hiding back there waiting for him to find me,” Damon said. 

“That was a nasty trick you played Damon. He's always playing nasty tricks like that on me... or hitting me with things,” Jamie said, pointing to his still bruised face. 

“Not anymore. They've balanced my medication again. I should be back out with you lot in the next day or two and I'm on the straight and narrow. I want to get out of here soon. Got things to be doing on the outside,” Damon said. “I've had a chance to think with so much time to myself lately. I've made plans for my release and if I stay on course the next couple of months I bet you I could be out before Greg!” 

“Graham. It's Graham I told you that this morning,” Graham said glaring at the table. 

“Yeah, I'm going to call you Greg. Anyways I need to be getting home sooner rather than later. Got girl on the outside you know,” Damon tells him as if he would have any interest at all. “You got anyone waiting for you?” There's a devilish smile and a twinkle in his eyes that means he knows what Graham's answer will be. 

“I don't really keep people close to me. I'd prefer to be on my own. It comes with the lifestyle,” Graham said. He is determined to shut Damon us. He can't stand the smug looks that his face seems to be so accustomed to. 

“Lifestyle, right. What lifestyle is that? Being a cynical bastard?” Damon teased.

“Gentlemen please, I'm trying to draw. I would like to get this done before something else catches my attention and I lose track of what I was working on. If you're going to have some sort of pissing contest then do it elsewhere for god sakes,” Jamie huffed, shaking his head as he reached for another pencil. “And if you're still under the illusion that Justine is waiting for you, then you're out of your tree mate.” 

“Oh fuck off! He gets very touchy when he's workin'” Damon said, turning his attention back to what Jamie is doing. Truth be told, he does enjoy watching him draw. There's something peaceful about it that calms him.

“And it's incredibly hard to do with your beady eyes on me all the time,” Jamie said without looking up. “Graham can stay because he's nice to me but you can fuck right the hell off if you're going to pick fights. You know how I despise it when you're difficult.” 

“Difficult? When am I ever difficult?” Damon asked, Jamie only snorts in reply as they are approached by one of the nurses. 

“Are you ever not?” He asked, doing his best to avoid acknowledging the woman he's sure is about to address him. As it turns out he's right.

“Jamie, I'm going to need you to come with me. Dr. Rowntree would like to talk to you for a moment,” She is promptly Ignored. “Jamie,” She repeats again. The slight exasperation in her tone leads Graham to believe that she is used to this. “Jamie!” There's an annoyed urgency this time that forces him to finally respond.

“Can I PLEASE just finish my drawing!” Jamie gripes. It's not excessive but Graham is sure it's the first time that he's heard Jamie raise his voice at any point. “I'm not even supposed to have a session today.” 

“He's insisted that it's urgent and he wants to speak to you before he leaves for the day,” Graham figured that he would probably be leaving soon, judging by the fact that it was already early evening. 

“No thank you. I'm quite alright where I am. If he wants to talk to me, then he can come over here and we'll have a chat because I'm not moving.” He shakes his head as though that is the end of the conversation. Once again he begins to shade the dark clouds in the top left corner of his sketch. 

“Jamie, don't make me-” 

“NO! I know as soon as that clock hits six we're going to have to leave the rec room and I won't be able to get any more of my shading done tonight because my markers have been taken away,” Jamie snapped more agitated this time with a hint of aggression rumbling low in his voice.

“Alright, if I let you bring the pencil box with you then will you come along?” The nurse seemed to be tired and unwilling to wrestle with Jamie for much longer. She was older but not old enough yet to warrant the streaks of gray that had started to weave themselves through the sides of her strawberry blond ponytail. There were dark circles under her eyes and Graham assumed that her feet must be sore from the way she swayed never leaving her full weight on one side or the other for any extended length of time. She seemed exhausted but luckily there would be a shift change around dinner time which is probably when she would leave only to be replaced by someone else that Graham wouldn't be able to remember the name of either. Being so late in the day wanting to continue with his art was a simple enough of a request that she was willing to accommodate in order to stop any further disagreement. 

“...Fine alright,” Jamie grumbled grabbing the pink plastic pencil case from in front of him along with his sketch pad. He's about to start sulking off after the nurse when he stops momentarily to speak to Damon. “Damon, I-” 

“We'll talk about it at dinner. Go, hurry. Before you get yourself into trouble,” Damon says giving him a soft smile and a squeeze on his right wrist. It's moments like this that have Graham considering the idea that Damon might not be the antichrist after all. “That could have escalated quickly,” He says to Graham once Jamie and the nurse are out of earshot. “Think she knew that too, that's why she gave in. Sometimes it's easier just to say yes to Jamie then have him get set off over something silly.” Graham's only reply is a sort of disinterested humming sound. He doesn't want to hear about Jamie from Damon because he doesn't believe that Damon is capable of telling the truth about much of anything. If there's something he's curious about he'll just go ahead and ask Jamie himself. He's about to get up and walk away until Damon adds, “I need you to do me a favor,” 

“Why should I?” Graham asked. He'll stay in his seat for long enough to hear Damon out, but then he might just go and have a look around for that Guitar that Jamie had mentioned the previous evening. 

“Because It's got nothing to do with me. It's got to do with Jamie and you don't seem to have anything against him. Not yet anyway,” Damon said leaning in closer across the table as though the conversation was of a private manner. The worn our elbows of his red and gray shirt now rested on the table. The tops of either hand were covered by the cuff of the material, littered with holes that looked as though they'd been chewed into the material. It gave him a somewhat childish appearance and coupled with his messy blond tufts of hair and his sparkling eyes Graham could almost be fooled into believing he was innocent in nature. 

“That's because I don't,” Graham admitted. So far he's actually been reasonably fond of Jamie. Jamie has been kind to him and he's yet to be given a reason to dislike him. 

“I just need you to keep an eye on him for me alright. Especially at night. I need to know if he starts behaving strangely. If he does then get Alex. He'll know what to do or he'll come and get me,” Damon says. 

“You, why you? Shouldn't it be the doctors that deal with him? I thought that was the whole point of this place is that they're supposed to be better equipped to handle the patients here then a normal hospital ward is.” Graham felts as though those words were fed to him the day before when he was being transferred, but it should be true right? 

“Jamie's got a very troubled mind. Sometimes getting the doctors involved isn't the best idea because it just sets him off further. They know there are certain times when it's easier to just let me talk him down,” Damon shrugged. Jamie had mentioned the night before that he and Damon had been friends since they were children. It made sense that sometimes your close friend could be more comforting to you then a nurse who was being paid to pretend as though they cared about you. “Look, I get it you don't like me, but the fact is you're sleeping in my bed. Other then when I'm in and out of solitary on occasion we haven't ever been separated and this is going to be a big adjustment for him. I'm the closest thing to family that he's ever had.” 

It had occurred to Graham the night before that it might be just as hard for Jamie to have someone new in his space as it was for Graham to be thrust into this disagreeable situation. He had been more than kind about it, but when it came down to it Graham doesn't know Jamie at all and he doesn't have a gauge on what would be normal behavior for him. “How will I know if something is the matter. I don't even know...what the trouble with him is,” He chooses his words carefully not wanting to insinuate to Damon that there is something 'wrong' with Jamie as he seems to be a bit over-protective of him. Damon actually laughs. 

“Have you really not figured it out yet?” He asked. 

“No? I guess not.” Graham really doesn't appreciate Damon's laughter. It's as if he's mocking him for not picking up on the problems of a man that he's only just met. On the other hand, he has figured out what is wrong with Damon. It's something you might refer to as 'Chronic Asshole Syndrome'. The defining symptom is the inability to stop being an obnoxious dickhead for even a moments time. 

“Seriously? Noodle, 2D, Russel, Murdoc, they're all in his head. They are all just Jamie, different parts of him and each one of them is a unique personality that he can slide in and out of. You've got to get to know each one of them as you get to know him and gain their trust. He's much more docile once you do. Unfortunately, they tend to skew the lines of reality and he has a hard time telling what's real and what's being produced by his imagination, gets a bit lost in it all really,” Damon said, he's a bit surprised by the way Graham has now leaned into the conversation finally giving him full attention. It's the first time that the seemingly shy brunette bundle of fiery nerves has actually engaged him fully.

“Like when he thought that you were swallowed by the whale?” Graham asked, suddenly so many things from the last couple of days are beginning to make sense. 

“Yes, exactly like when he thought that I was swallowed by the whale,” Damon nodded, meeting Graham's eyes. He watched the other man's mannerisms, the way he averted his eyes as soon as there was even a threat of contact. He chewed nervously on the edges of his nails. On the fingers that no longer had nails it looked as though the tough, calloused skin on his fingertips had been pulled back probably by biting as well. Damon had observed the way that Graham would fidget constantly. He never seemed to sit still. He couldn't tell if this was anxiety from being in a new situation or if he, in fact, might be that wired all of the time. At the moment he was messing with his fringe, trying to arrange it by raking his fingers through the fine brown baby hairs at the front and only succeeding to mess it up even further. “I'm concerned about the new character that he was drawing, this Boogieman that he claims to have seen last night. It could be nothing I just want you to keep an eye and ear open if he starts doing anything bizarre.” 

“How would I be able to tell if I'm sleeping too. I'm not exactly going to start staying up all night cause you're worried about your friend's fractured mind,” Graham said. It's more meant to be a dig at Damon than anything against Jamie. 

“Believe me, you'll know if something is wrong. He won't exactly be quiet about it,” Damon said. 

“Damon,” A man says approaching the table. “Time is up. Back to solitary for now.” 

“Right...” Damon looks up at the clock. It's five til' six and he's been out for a whole two hours. He'll be let out again in another hour or so when dinner time rolls around and then hopefully the following day he would be released from confinement altogether. Not wanting to put his chances in jeopardy he got to his feet immediately. He knows just how much easier life can be when he plays by the rules. Not that Damon likes to make life easy for anyone, but when he's feeling so inclined he can be fairly obedient. That only ever happens when it's of some benefit to him, and right now he's determined not to spend another day in solitary confinement. Even with his current probational freedom, he's still miserable alone. “Good talking to you Greg, see you at dinner,” 

Graham wants to yell. Yell right in Damon's face to stop intentionally getting his name wrong because he knows what that it's Graham and not Greg, but judging by the smirk on Damon's face and the slight eye roll of the nurse he knows that's exactly what Damon is looking for so he just keeps his mouth shut. He doesn't even bother to utter a goodbye to Damon and the silence continues all throughout dinner as well. Jamie hasn't come back yet, leaving the two of them sitting quietly while the nurses whispered behind their hands. Damon assumed that it's something about him, they're not used to his volume being turned down quite so low, but if it means that he doesn't have to sit alone then he can deal with it for the time being. It won't always be like this. Graham will grow accustomed to his 'charming' behavior, and of course, Jamie will be back with them tomorrow.


End file.
